


Hell is a Teenage Girl

by Bbanimal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Jennifer's Body (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, F/M, Not-So Virgin Sacrifice, Shameless Smut, Violence, Virgin Sacrifice, slumber parties, teenage girls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bbanimal/pseuds/Bbanimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wasn’t always this cracked. I used to be normal- well, as normal as any girl under the influence of teenage hormones. But after the killings began, I started to feel, I don’t know... loose around the edges or something." - Anita "Needy" Lesnicki </p><p>Written for the Live Journal Prompt <a href="http://valar-morekinks.livejournal.com/">All Men Have Kinks; Round 1</a></p><p>Sansa, after being sacrificed to Satan by the greedy, grasping Lannisters, becomes something entirely different; and Jeyne her best friend, seems to be the only one who notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell is a Teenage Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how far I will go with this, it was totally spur of the moment so this is me getting my feet wet. So... It's a little teaser of sorts? 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts and enjoy, also (if you would be so kind) check out my Tumblr, [b-baminal](http://b-baminal.tumblr.com/) along with my other works on the Archive.
> 
>  
> 
> ♡ B

_Before I iced her with the box cutter, do know Sansa hadn’t always looked as rough as the day I killed her - the sallow skin, her cheek bones cutting, those come hither ‘fuck-me’ blue eyes all cloudy and dark, her famous long legs thin and wobbly. In all actuality, she was the prettiest girl in Kings Landing when she wasn’t so...hungry. Then, in that moment, she hadn’t fed in weeks, and she wouldn't, ever again._

_“Kings Landing” - I know, sounds fantastical, but the place just is named after a dumb old hotel. The little town nothing but sprawling ranch houses, a block of old brick buildings, and a ten-year old Ralphs. And that hotel. Some say it’s haunted - by some I mean the ghost hunters and other traveling mystics, even a scientists or two. But really, it’s just a place one too many old guys have kicked it, even some young ones too._

_And in all this... sprawl. There was her - Sansa. If you can believe it back then, we were tight. Sisters, practically. People found it hard to believe that a babe like Sansa would associate with a dork like me. Me, Jeyne ‘Pouty’ Poole - my frizzy, mousy brown hair, librarian glasses, and with a collection woolen sweaters any crazy cat lady would choke on a friggin’ butterscotch candy for. And her? Sansa fucking Stark, with her rich red hair, glowy pale skin, blue eyes like a Disney princess. Long legs for days, with a pair of tits that couldn’t quit, that freakishly tiny waist and a perfect, rounded ass her own uncle couldn’t help but slap. But we’d been the Wonder Twins since we were practically preverbal. Sandbox love never dies. It was all so easy… so simple. We were our yearbook pictures. Nothing more, nothing less._  

* * *

**Two Months Earlier**

* * *

 

“Hey Monistat.”

“What’s up Vagisil?” She leans against the chipped blue locker, I nod my head, pulling out my ripped up copy of  _Hamlet_ from the floor of my locker.

“You and me are going out tonight.” Theres a flash of that perfect smile as the ring in voice dies down, teeth biting into glossy pink lips. The soft swish of red hair, Sansa raising her brow at the reflection, smirking back at her from my locker mirror. I swear in that moment she even winked at herself.

“Sansa...” I sigh - “Pouty _c’mon_ , there is a party at Kings tonight, I hear lots of guys from the city will be there.” Turning, she stares back into the mirror, _again_ . “They’ll be real salty, I’m sure. _City boys always are._ ” She almost seems to rock and bounce at her words, her tongue drifting across her bottom lip, tasting the pink-sugary gloss, breasts bouncing in an always too-tight shirt.

I sigh, “Why would that matter to me or you - remember Theon, _and_ ,  _won’t your uncle be there_ ?” Her eyes narrow, scanning the faces of everyone walking by, waiting for the crowd to thin - the perfect moment; “ _Petyr_ , you mean. Pouty, you know this - _he’s not really my uncle_ , just by marriage is all.” Her fingers catch and twirl of lock of that perfect red hair, a smile growing - “And besides, he won’t mind. As _Petyr_ says, ‘kitty’s gotta stretch her claws.’ It will be ok. If anything, we’ll be banging _extra hard_ once aunties gone to bed tonight.” She leans in closer, I can smell her perfume, _Coco Mademoiselle._ She sucks in her breath, a low giggling whisper, “ _He likes that kinda shit._ ”

“Gross Sansa.” I cough, my voice growing raspy at the thought of Sansa bouncing on top of her uncle like he’s the hippity-hop we used to play on. I hope she didn’t notice the rolling eyes, the cough that got away. _This is too much_.

 _She catches something,_ “Boo, cross out Pouty, getting all judgey.” Her arms rising, painted fingers crossing me in the air, another pout on her lips. Hands falling to rest on her hips, fingering the hem of her shirt, tugging at the cotton - the pink of her lacy bra peaking out - Sansas signature.

 _I can’t say no… if ever._ “Fine. What time?” Sighing, I slam my locker door shut, leaning against the cool metal.

That smile returns, “Well, since Auntie Lysa and Petyr are going together - _I will have the audi_ , I’ll pick you up at 8:30. Wear something cool, ok?”

With that she gives a well practiced twirl, artfully (in her mind) raising up the hem of her skirt, batting her lashes at a gaggle of boys walking by, mindlessly staring as she struts down the hallway, all swinging hips, clicking heels, and bouncing tits. _Gotta love her, bitch._


End file.
